


Rainbow of Chaos

by writingramblr



Category: Tomorrowland (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Noir, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Casey is not actually under 17, F/M, Femme Fatale, Film Noir, I am such Trash, John Francis Walker is not a bad guy, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, but he's a bit stupid when it comes to Casey, prompts from tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:52:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two opposing magnets always remain in a dance around each other. Or is it like magnets? I forget.<br/>What if one of the fields collapses?</p><p>Like a supernova of a star, magic happens.</p><p> </p><p>[a collection of stand alone AU prompts with shameless shipping of  Casey/Frank. Cause there is never enough of this ship.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chance Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from the prompt: "It’s pouring and my final paper is in my backpack, so I guess we’re stuck under this tiny awning together. Do you think they’d deliver pizza here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally i wanted to keep these under 3 sentences and post them on my tumblr, but that didn't happen...

The first thing Casey notices, after running for cover underneath the small alcove in front of the grocery store owned by a sweet little Hispanic couple, is the fact that her backpack isn’t nearly as wet as her hoodie.

Thanking someone above for small amounts of luck, the next thing she notices is that she’s not the only person with the same idea; there’s a man with rain slicked silver hair shaking off a briefcase, and seeming to lament the fact he didn’t bring an umbrella to work with him.

“Hi. I’m about to fail my final thanks to this rain. What brings you here?” she grins at him, and wonders if talking up some stranger just because they’re both trapped counts as excessive flirting, which she’s been accused of several times by her best friend Athena.

There’s not a ring on the man’s left hand, and he does look mildly flattered by her bothering to speak to him, even as the rain continues to grow heavier, seeming to make the very air thick with moisture,

“I’m late for work, I guess this is what I get for staying up late to watch the sci-fi channel marathon of the twilight zone. Frank Walker.”

He sticks out a hand, and she takes it gladly, noting how warm his skin is and how his hand almost dwarfs hers.

Casey grins at Frank and doesn’t let go of his hand until she’s sure he’s focused right on her,

“Do you think they deliver pizza here?”

He smiles back and looks twice as handsome,

“I think it’s worth a shot to call.”


	2. Grown Men Drink Lattes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from the prompt: "I ordered a pumpkin spice latte at Starbucks and you made a heart with the foam and I decided to drink it here so I can smile at you some more."

Frank Walker tried to keep the grimace off of his face as he walked up to the counter of the well known coffee shop and placed his order.

He knew exactly how odd it looked. Grown man, business man, in a nice suit and tie with a briefcase clutched in his hand like it was a lifeline in a storm and he was drowning, ordering a pumpkin spiced latte.

He’d just gotten so damn sick of hearing all about the drink from his silly coworkers so he finally decided to brave the icy weather on his lunch break and try one.

The young pretty girl behind the cash register didn’t even give him a strange look when he told her what he wanted.

She rang him up and then proceeded to begin crafting the drink, all the while he pretended like he wasn’t staring at her.

Blue eyes were almost hidden beneath her emerald green baseball cap, while her long blonde ponytail spilled out and reached down her back almost to the edge of her jeans, not that he was looking at her butt, but he totally was.

She beamed at him and handed him his drink, and he saw there was a heart staring up at him, drawn in the foam with the actual coffee and he decided to stay and drink it there, so he could keep staring at her.

It wasn’t until he’d finished his drink that he noticed she’d written her number on the side of the cup.


	3. Special Delivery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from the prompt: "Delivery pizza guy/girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Athena, so she is here Headcanoned as Casey's BFF/roommate in many of the AU's.

“Any special instructions? Hell if I know.”

Casey wasn’t one to be overly complicated when ordering a pizza, but when her roommate Athena hissed at her from across the room to put something, she decided it couldn’t hurt to be a little outrageous, for once in her life.

“Say, send your hottest delivery boy.”

Casey grinned, and quickly typed it in before sending it off.

“Okay so what if they don’t?”

Athena rolled her eyes and flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder,

“They always do what you special instruct, or they wouldn’t have that suggestion box.”

Twenty minutes later when the doorbell rang, Casey nearly jumped out of her skin, and Athena yelled at her from the kitchen, where she was making their drinks, to get the damn door.

“Okay okay, I’m going!”

Breathless and slightly on the verge of starvation from dire need of pizza, she pulled open their front door to find the pizza guy, boy, but no, he was totally a grown man.

They had delivered on the request beyond her wildest dreams.

There were many things running through her mind, the least of which was completely inappropriate and involved the words ‘ why is someone your age working this job?’ because the delivery guy in question was prematurely silver haired, a good foot taller than her, and had a grin that could level an entire room of college girls.

She was suddenly glad Athena wasn’t in the room competing with her for attention.

“Hey. I’ve got a large half and half pepperoni and sausage onion thin crust?”

Casey’s eyes slid away from his pretty face down to his lame font printed nametag, reading ‘Frank’ and then she managed a smile.

“Do you now?”

Frank looked rather impatient now, and Casey wondered just how long she’d been holding the door open and simply staring at him instead of trying to accept the pizza and pay him.

“Uh yeah, it’ll be 12.40.”

“Here you go.”

An elbow to her side, and Casey realizes Athena has come to investigate the delay, and just shoved a twenty in Frank’s hand.

He grimaces and hands her the pizza, while Casey keeps staring, probably letting flies in the house as she leans against the door.

“Are you going to exchange numbers or do I have to do all the work?”  


Athena has spoken again, and this time both the pizza guy and Casey are looking at her.

“What?”

“What?”

Casey looks back at Frank and her eyes quickly scan for a wedding ring.

She mentally wipes her forehead.

Meanwhile she suddenly notices he’s staring at her now.

“Did you put the special request in?”

Casey grins like an idiot,

“Might have.”

Frank gives a mock bow,

“Well I hope I’m ‘hot’ enough.”

Athena winks exaggeratedly at him.

“You are. You’re also lucky I’ve got a boyfriend. Now hurry it up Newton.”

She bumps Casey’s hip and walks back towards the kitchen, leaving her alone with the delivery guy.

“So…”

He rubs his hand on his neck and looks awkwardly at the ground, and Casey is struck by a thought.

“You’ve never been asked out by anyone you’ve brought pizza to?”

Frank shrugs,

“Usually I’m the one making the pizzas.”

Casey’s jaw drops, again,

“Really? So they did send you because you were the hottest?”

Frank grins,

“In the entire staff, it seems so. Then again, perhaps my boss is biased.”

Casey coughs awkwardly,

“So I’m sure you should go.”

He nods.

“Well, here.”

In a daring move that surprises him, she grabs his hand and writes her number on the back of it. It’s lucky she always has a sharpie in her pocket.

“Thanks. I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

Casey watches him go, and its only after an appreciative look at his uniform clad rear that she closes the front door.

“Jesus woman. You take forever to ask someone out.”

Athena has already devoured a fourth of the pizza, and Casey has no one but herself to blame.

“Yeah well, you know me, I like to attack all the angles.”

Athena rolls her eyes,

“You know he’s probably twice our age.”

Casey snags a slice and winks at her friend before speaking,

“And the problem is?”


	4. In Every Lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> from an au generator for rp's: "Reincarnated lovers, but not initially compatible to each other."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the one i could most see expanding to a full length thing and here i use the original Frank Walker and Athena's meeting as the first life/encounter of the lovers :D

“You know you’re really starting to get on my nerves here Kid.”

Frank stares over at his intern, who’s just brought his coffee in, and she completely forgot the fact he likes milk and sugar.

Black coffee makes him grimace.

Incompetent interns make him annoyed.

But she’s not backing down, not tearing up, or even looking remotely sorry.

“My name is Casey! Not kid! I’m almost 21. I’m halfway through my senior year at CalTech and I’m not just some girl you can treat like garbage. I earned my way in here, and when I graduate, I’m going to invent technology that makes you look as outdated as the floppy disc!”

If not for the whole foot stomping on the carpeted floor and the cute wrinkle between her eyebrows, Frank would have been intimidated by her speech.

As it was, he found himself mildly amused and slightly aroused.

Which was ridiculous.

She was completely right about everything she’d said, not to mention the fact she was half his age.

“Okay… _Casey_ ,” he said the name like it pained him, “Whatever you say. But please go down to the cafeteria and finish doctoring my coffee.”

He’d said please.

He saw the fire in her stunning blue eyes slightly die down, and her shoulders lowered just a fraction of an inch.

She tossed her blonde hair behind her shoulder and pursed her lips.

“Fine.”

She spat out through gritted teeth, and turned away, stomping down the hall, every step clicking as her heels met the wooden floor.

He breathed out slowly and collapsed into his desk chair.

“Casey Newton, you will be the death of me.”

~

Frank Walker was the most annoying, stuck up genius and all around worst boss to have. Casey was convinced she was going to snap one day and simply poison his damn coffee, and she looked forward to hearing him say it tasted just right before he stopped yelling and ordering her around.

She didn’t sign up to work for the former child prodigy to fetch coffee and print memos, she wanted to actually _learn_ something useful about running a company, and inventing innovative technologies.

Her threat had been mostly empty, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he knew she could run circles around him, if he’d even read one paragraph of her resume.

The only problem after his horrible personage was the fact he was ridiculously good looking. Distractingly so when he wore a tie.

Most of the time he simply wore a suit that looked as old as his silver hair made him seem.

Casey knew perfectly well he’d gone grey when he’d been about her age, it had been all over the tabloids, and they’d accused his long hours and horrible childhood, having been raised in the spotlight, all the stress, blah blah blah.

Unfortunately it only served to make him more attractive.

She’d liked to think she was the exception the rumored many women who’d tried to work with him but only ended up leaving after realizing they could never win his cold and inventive minded only heart, but the way he easily got her riled up and made her impassioned speeches more and more frequent worried her.

She also found herself dreaming or day dreaming about what things could have been like if they didn’t work together, or rather, if she didn’t work for him.

It was pretty stupid.

But the night before she’d first started with him, she’d read an article about his first invention, and the starting of the Tomorrowland Inc, and dreamt about meeting him at some strange tech expo.

The whole dream had been black and white, and she’d had a weird tunnel vision, like wearing goggles or looking through a telescope.

He’d been there, but he’d been trying to sell the idea of a jetpack or some other worldly invention right out of a scifi movie.

She’d woken up after dying in his arms in the dream.

Talk about an awkward first meeting.

Now she just wondered how many more days she’d survive being his personal assistant, instead of actual useful intern.

She also was slightly worried that she didn’t actually mind when he called her ‘kid’ except for the fact it made her feel like he was trying to pretend she was younger than she really was.

***

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm such trashy trash. but not sorry.


	5. Atoms Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Star Wars AU that kinda grabbed me and didn't let go.  
> It incorporates elements from the original trilogy and takes place just before Episode III and Order 66 and then right before A New Hope -ish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked the idea of Casey having been born into a family of 2 jedi who'd discovered their feelings, but left the order without becoming evil or being declared outcasts. maybe that's mary sue ish. well sue me.
> 
> i also liked the idea of Casey knowing his birth name.

It wasn’t how most Jedi were recruited.

Casey Newton had been hand chosen and sent to be trained by the Queen when she’d inadvertently saved the life of a visiting noble.

The using the Force was just another perk of being a chosen one.

Having a lightsabre was something Casey had only dreamt of.

She’d been born of forbidden love between two Jedi who’d run away from the order rather than fall or risk revealing their truth.

Growing up on Naboo had been peaceful and easy, but war had come to the planet in the end.

The shimmering shining capital of the galaxy, or at least Coruscant claimed to be, was where Casey met Jedi Master Francis Walker.

He appeared perhaps as old as her father, but was barely a decade older, and had an incredibly strong aura about him in the Force.

Casey saw it like a glow around him. Maybe he had silver hair simply from the exasperation the younglings caused him.

Or perhaps he’d seen glimpses of the future, and like High councilmember Yoda, feared what would become of the Order.

 

Casey tried not to think too much about it.

She enjoyed her training and made the special trips back home to check in with her family, and her newest friend and ally, the Queen.

 

When she was summoned for the trials and told to train with Jedi Master Walker, she had an uneasy feeling.

It wasn’t for anything bad that could happen or would, but just something like she felt as a child when she’d eaten too many jubilee fruits.

A gnawing sensation in her stomach.

The fourth month of her training brought it all to the surface.

She discovered the cause of her inner worry.

Jedi could not become attached or allow themselves any distractions.

Yet, without her permission, somehow somewhere sometime along the line, she’d lost something dear to her Jedi Master.

Her heart.

She walked into morning training, same as always, and caught him looking up at her from his lotus position with such warmth in his usually cool brown eyes, it stopped her short and she had to catch her breath.

“Master. Good day to you.”

If her voice shook, she didn’t notice, since she was clutching her lightsabre so hard to mask any outward quivers of her hands.

“Casey. Trials are next week. Do you feel ready?”

Her blithe reply caught in her throat, and the room seemed to shrink inward upon itself.

Had the sunshields and filters to the room failed?

Were they about to be incinerated by the lack of protection from the planet’s atmosphere?

It was all in her head.

The usual aura of the Force was no longer calm and soothing, it was a furiously dancing globe of light, and waves crashed on shores of consciousness as Casey tried to reach out and probe Walker’s thoughts.

“What are you doing?”

He was on his feet, and stalking towards her like they were about to enter a sparring match.

Casey gulped, for air, for moisture to speak, but could only stare at him wordlessly.

His face changed and in a heartbeat it was no longer blank.

Adoration rolled off of him in waves and she felt a surge of emotion well up within her.

The urge to run into his arms, if he would catch her, suddenly overcame her.

“Newt…”

The simple nickname she’d caught when she’d first come to the Order fell from his lips, and her hands fell to her sides, fingers twitching freely,

“John…”

She’d _never_ addressed him as such, and neither did anyone outside of the Order.

Most Jedi Masters tended to choose their own names, and Jedi Master Walker was no different. He preferred his middle name and surname to his previously given birth name. He’d gone by it for only 17 months before being called upon, and snatched from his home to train among a herd of other gifted younglings.

 

Another heartbeat passed, and then Casey was standing inches from him, looking up at him with a maelstrom of blue to meet that which was the haunting dark abyss of John’s eyes.

“What is happening to us?”

His voice was low, and held none of the cheerful tones he usually employed when bent on teasing her for being late or not having gotten enough sleep.

“I don’t know. It can’t be right.”

Casey knew _exactly_ what was happening, but she had no wish to be the first to admit to it.

She’d been created from it.

She had no wish to be anything like what most of the Order thought of the Fallen, or the Lost Twenty-One.

“Then why does it feel like I’ve been stabbed in the chest every time you walk out that door?”

His hand was burning against her cheek, and she hadn’t even noticed he’d moved.

His thumb stroked over her mouth, as she leaned into his palm.

Her tongue moved of its own accord, sneaking out between her lips to wet them, and she swore she could taste the echo of his skin.

Or she was imagining how he would taste, sensing and feeling him in the Force.

Was that an abuse of power?

If she could name every element he reminded her of, and what she always dreamt of after accidentally grazing his bare skin with her own during training?

His other hand had now lifted to graze her waist, and it began innocently enough, tracing her belt and then he was moving it up to touch the seam of her tunic, where it met in the middle of her chest and her breathing stopped and maybe even her heart did in that instant.

But he didn’t retreat.

Now both hands were framing her face, and she couldn’t look anywhere but at him, not that she wanted to look away, not for all the credits in the galaxy.

“It’s not possible.”

Her voice was a desperate whisper, and every fiber in her being shouted for this, for the madness, even as the only rational bit in her body declared he had to deny it.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, before returning to her own for just a moment.

“I’ve been a Jedi all my life, and I’ve never questioned it, not until I met you. I don’t know what to believe now.”

It was possible.

It was highly likely.

He was only a heartbeat away.

She could feel his breath on her skin.

She let her eyes fall shut.

His hands cradled her face and held her like she was something precious, and she felt her eyes sting behind the closed lids.

 _He does love me._ _Thank the gods._

*

The girl with stars in her eyes and golden sands in her hair was in his circle of space and he never wanted to let her go.

Jedi Master ~~John~~ Francis Walker had been long content in his role of protector, guardian and oath keeper of the Order.

But then in had walked the five feet and seven inches of chaos that was Padawan Casey Newton, and his entire world had been flipped upside down.

He’d been assigned to complete her training, and ensure she would be ready when the time came for the trials.

He’d scoffed at the idea of someone as old as her becoming a Jedi.

But she wasn’t the first.

She wouldn’t be the last.

Unless…

He refused to dwell on the uncertain possible future.

There were whispers and rumors that late found Force strong children would never be able to control the power that flowed through them, that they had no other destiny but to fall.

He didn’t buy it.

He shared half his surname with half of a growing legend of a Jedi pair, who currently fought in the Clone Wars, Skywalker and Kenobi, but he always brushed off the rumors of relation.

His family was much too old Coruscantian for that to have been possible.

In his early days, Jedi would never have been allowed to be used as soldiers in a battle.

They were only there to keep the peace.

But these days?

So many things had changed.

What was one more?

The unspoken truth had remained as such for too long.

He’d passed her compliments and given her encouraging words before, of course.

But he’d never allowed any sort of insight into how much she really meant to him.

He hadn’t known how before.

Not without shattering every fragile rule he held dear.

Her trust in him always broke his heart.

In that moment, when she closed her eyes to him, she opened her mind, and what he saw frightened him more than anything else in the galaxy.

Love blossomed out from every cell in her being, and all the medichlorians of her soul seemed to sing with it.

 _This is wrong_.

A secret voice hissed to him inside.

But why did it feel so right?

Like the first moment he’d ever held a lightsabre.

The moment he’d begun using the Force _on purpose_.

When John kissed Casey, the very stars came to life.

It was their salvation and their damnation.

*

It wasn’t long before the war was ending.

The Clone Wars hadn’t even been important.

Simply another smokescreen, while the Sith rebuilt their empire.

When the Force began screaming with the deaths of Jedi, the ones who still lived felt it like losing a part of their soul.

Offworld, John and Casey did not know what had occurred.

They were called back to the Jedi Temple on urgent business, and instead of finding the Order in need of help, they found one of their own, Fallen.

John died first, and Casey followed him, but not without a terrific battle.

Single handedly, she destroyed over a dozen Clones, before being slain by the Jedi once known as Skywalker.

Absorbed into the Force, they found each other once again, but what peace was there after death when there were no more Jedi to council or advise?

 

Until they realized there were still survivors.

Well hidden, and extremely frail.

But that was before the twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Queen is exactly who you think.  
> the Noble is whomever you like, but I'm leaning towards a certain Senator who was the original Zod ;)


	6. End of the Rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Found on the roof, sitting at the edge"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this Prompt is a lot angstier than any others and deals with loss and attempted suicide, so read at your own risk. It may have a second part, but i'm not sure yet.

The night air was cold against Casey’s skin, and the goosebumps that rose up on her arms only served to remind her that as hard as she pretended, she could still _feel_.

She was still alive, and it wasn’t the most trivial thing in the world.

“Excuse me, miss?”

A deep voice startled her and with a white knuckled grip, her hands flew down to steady herself on the edge of the roof.

“What?”

Her voice shook, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been caught, or from her shivering.

“Are you all right?”

A mad urge to laugh caught in her throat, and she gave a sarcastic reply instead.

“I dunno, do people usually come onto the roof of a high building to be all right?”

“I’m going to take a wild guess here and say you weren’t star gazing?”

Casey frowned.

The stranger was answering her non question with another question and daring to poke at the reason she was doing something incredibly stupid.

She turned around to give the guy a piece of her mind and in the dim lighting of the moon and a few buildings corner fluorescents she caught a flash of silver.

This wasn’t some stranger.

This was the guy who lived across the hall from her and Athena, her roommate.

How she wished Athena had been home today.

She’d gone off for her semester abroad, leaving Casey on her own for three months, and the only time she called to check in was when her satellite phone had racked up free minutes.

If she remembered.

The last few weeks she had not.

When Casey’s entire world had crashed and burned in on itself, there had been no one for her.

“What do you want?”

She was sorry to be so harsh, but she wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

She looked back down at the street, and the hum of the traffic and the chatter of strangers threatened to drown her thoughts again.

“I want you to come down away from the edge, and I want to make you some tea.”

Any other night, Casey would have been thrilled at the prospect.

It was no secret the small crush she’d been harboring on her neighbor.

She watched him leave to get his mail before following after, making small talk and embarrassing herself when she got caught staring at his left hand, where there was no sign of a ring and then finding out he was a retired inventor.

So he had grey hair, wasn’t quite as old as she thought, and was rich enough to have a penthouse, but chose the one bedroom loft with a view of the fair park.

So what?

“You’re Casey Newton right? I remember you.”  


He’d come even closer, and if he reached out, he could probably pull her into his arms.

The wind kicked up again, and she gave a full body shiver.

Her blonde hair whipped around her face and hid the fact that her tears weren’t quite dry.

“Yeah? You do?”

He was smiling, she could hear it in his voice.

“Yeah of course. The girl who graduated CalTech in half the time? You’re just one of many child geniuses to live in the building.”

He was teasing, but not in a cruel way.

Shame of the timing.

“Stay back. I don’t want your help.”

“Who said anything about help? I just want to stargaze.”

He folded his arms, and dramatically looked upwards, eyes wide and dark, drinking in the night sky and trying not to be obvious about how he drew closer to her.

She hugged her arms around herself.

“You’re not that smart you know. You always think you are.”

He frowned slightly,

“Sorry?”

Casey’s voice caught on a sob,

“You _men_. You think you’re too tough, unbreakable. Then you go do something stupid and get yourself hurt. Hurt and alone, and I can’t do anything!”

She hid her face in her hands and wasn’t very surprised when two strong arms surrounded her seconds later, dragging her backwards.

Her legs went limp and she felt concrete scrap her ankles as he brought her back towards the door to the interior.

But instead of moving her more, he simply stilled and held her as she cried.

“It’s okay.”

A hand patted her hair, and his voice was almost soothing, but for the lie in his words.

_It wasn’t okay. It never would be again._

Her father was dead, and she’d not found out a single thing until it was too late.

She cursed him and his eternal stubbornness.

He’d gone and tried to fix things, and made them worse instead.

He should have known he could never go up against something so powerful and walk away.

But the man across the hall didn’t know this or care, he only wanted to keep her from ending it all. She didn’t know whether to curse him too, or thank him.

Maybe a bit of both.

She finally stopped crying, and the last sobs wracked her body.

“What’s your name?”

She asked, in a low voice, still gulping air into her lungs.

The cold no longer burned, it simply numbed.

“Frank. Frank Walker.”

She could have stayed curled up against his chest forever.

“That’s a nice name.”

“So’s Casey.”

She managed a smile, and looked up at him through the haze of tears.

“The offer for tea still on?”

He nodded.

“Of course. You must be freezing.”


	7. Fallen From Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A more mature drabble in nature, so I've changed the rating accordingly.  
> but its more psuedo smut than anything racy. just in case though, as this is originally a disney story i don't want any minors wandering in unaware.

She’s not the usual sort of woman he likes to stare at.

But she falls right smack dab in the middle of his thoughts when he isn’t at the Tomorrowland lounge. With her legs out to here, luscious long blonde waves and icy blue eyes, she’s just the right shade of perfect to haunt him all day, and then captivate him at night.

Her voice is only passable, and not a crisp song of a nightingale or the sweet tune of a jukebox.

But there’s a something special in the soft rasp of her cigarette smoked sound.

When she fixes her gaze on a patron, that’s how they know they’re done for.

Tonight, she’s got him in her sights, and he wonders how he got so damn lucky.

Or is it unlucky?

Will he never hold her favor again?

*

Francis Walker.

She’s heard whispers about him.

The man who invented the way of the future.

Whatever that means.

He’s got connections with the government and ties with the mob, and she wonders how that could be possible, all for one man.

He’s so in demand, he’s invaluable.

Maybe that’s why she finds herself watching him.

The lights are always focused on her, but sometimes when he comes in late during her set, he catches one of them, walks past and blinds her with his silver head of hair.

When she dares to look right at him, she sometimes gets lost in those dark smoldering brown pools he probably calls eyes.

Windows to the soul indeed.

But she doesn’t see the heartless insides of a businessman.

She sees something else.

He wants more.

He needs to live and be loved.

Work has slowly begun to age him before his time, and it might not even be from the stress of providing to two sides of a blossoming war.

The way his shoulders slump as he finally takes his seat and orders his drink shatters something inside him.

Tonight she vows to be more than a siren ensnaring his attention and winning his desire.

She wants to be his avenging angel and do a bit of good.

She finishes her set, and returns the mic to its cradle, and makes her way towards where he still sits, hypnotized and heart wrenchingly handsome.

“Hello stranger.”

She croons, and waves towards Athena to bring her the usual, chilled ice water in a martini glass with a slice of lemon.

It makes her appear as if she’s drinking enough with the rest of them, without actually harming her voice or muddling her mind.

“I’m hardly that. I’m a regular, ain’t I?”

He doesn’t look offended, just slightly wounded, if his mock pout is anything to go by, and she’s captured by his lips suddenly. Wanting a taste of that which is in such high demand.

There’s a shadow to his cheeks, like he’s been clean shaven all day until entering the lounge, and now that it’s past five, he doesn’t have to be perfect any more.

“Or you’re fond of something in Tomorrowland.”

She takes a small sip of her water, and fights the urge to sigh in pleasure at the cool relief of the dryness to her throat.

He grins lopsided, and she senses that he’s holding back, because of her, or for her, she doesn’t know.

“Something like that.”

He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and she shakes her head gently, the blonde coiffure momentarily blocking her vision, as he pats one out and flicks a lighter he pulled out of almost thin air to light it. He takes a long draw, perhaps trying to wrangle his thoughts, now that she’s finally come up to him after so many weeks of him pretending not to be interested.

“What’s your name stranger?”

He blows a stream of smoke just to the left of her and she doesn’t blink an eyelash.

“Frank. What’s yours?”

She ducks her head and smiles gently, before shaking her head.

“Now he asks. It’s Casey.”

He frowns slightly, before taking another long pull of the cigarette, and then looks thoughtful,

“What, did your parents expect someone else?”

Casey shrugs,

“I don’t know really. It’s not the worst boy’s name I could have had.”

Frank looks mildly amused,

“Like Frank?”

She takes a sip of her water to avoid smiling too wide.

He’s making fun of himself to make her laugh.

How he’s not got a handful of broken hearted ex wives after his money she doesn’t know.

“So what sort of plans do you have tonight?”

Finally he’s getting to the point, and she’s fighting the urge to sigh with relief.

“Well I might go home, watch something on the late nights, and then sleep with my windows thrown wide open.”

She cocks a perfectly sculpted brow at him and waits with almost baited breath for him to give her some ideas of what she should be doing instead, or whom.

He doesn’t disappoint.

*

She’s finally on his arm, inside his apartment penthouse, and now Frank’s nerves light up like a bunch of poppers on July Fourth.

She strolls around the room, letting him go, cooing at the design and the beautiful view from the balcony and something inside him hurts watching her.

She looks so perfect.

Not like a piece of furniture picked out and plucked from the showroom to compliment the room.

She looks like she fits in it.

She belongs.

She should wake up every morning and then come home at night to this.

Pure domesticity strikes fear in the heart of most billionaire inventors who have large industries to support, but not Frank Walker.

She lets her white fur slide from her shoulders slightly, beckoning with a bared stretch of skin that makes his pulse stutter and stop for a hairsbreath of a second before it all comes flaring back, filling his ears with a roar not unlike ocean waves crashing.

“Beautiful.”

She’s whispering at she looks out at the city, still alight for the most part, despite the lateness, or even early hour.

He’s got a similar sentiment on the tip of his tongue, but he’s not looking where she is.

He’s wondering how wrinkled that blue silk will get when he tosses it onto the carpeted floor of his master bedroom.

How her skin will gleam in the moonlight, bared to his hungry eyes and wandering hands.

Will she taste like gin and lemon when they kiss?

Will she sing beneath his fingertips?

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

He’s already moving towards the bar, suddenly needing some more liquid courage.

She’s probably turning around, fixing him with one of her dangerous come hither stares, but he misses it while fumbling with the glass topper of the whiskey.

“No thank you. I want to remember everything about this night.”

Soft and small warm hands cover his, squeezing gently, stilling his movements, and he notes that she’s complete discarded the wrap.

Her blue dress is strapless, and all he wants to do is kiss every inch of bare skin he can see.

She gives him a half smile and he’s not thirsty anymore.

He needs no help now.

She’s in his arms in a heartbeat more and then on her tip toes she’s kissing him.

He would have been disappointed he didn’t make the first move but he’s proven wrong happily about her taste.

Lips as silky smooth as a good decanter of bourbon caress his rough and chapped ones, and she’s warm as a summer day, and sweet as honey, with that tang of lemon.

The rest of the night lives in infamy in his mind.

He knows he didn’t drink too much but it’s still a pleasant blur of movement and soft sounds.

The blue dress looks much better on the floor than on her, and he’s the one singing her praises when she starts to actively touch him beyond his wildest desires.

Her hair gets mussed and the perfect curls turn to tousled and loosened waves that he could easily run his hands through all night and day.

The way she looks laying against his pillows and sleeping soundly is heart breaking. Just out of a fairy tale.

Except she’s already given him the kiss of life and brought his soul back from the edge of despair.

He feels sore in places he didn’t remember having muscles that he used beyond the bedroom, but he doesn’t mind at all as he traces a hand over her bare back and down the dip of her stomach.

She’s perfectly still besides the rise and fall of her perfect breasts, and he wonders how he got so lucky.

A guardian angel is clearly watching over him and in his corner.

Without her bright red lips and sultry eyes to distract, she looks remarkably young in his bed.

It gives him pause for a moment, but then he already knew she was at least half his age, and Tomorrowland isn’t stupid. They wouldn’t hire a child to sing.

Still, he wonders what her life was like before the lounge.

And is he the first of many whom she’s decided she likes and wants for the night?

He wants to be the last.

If she’ll allow it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and yes, Casey knows who he is, but she asks his name anyway out of curiosity, to see how he'll present himself. and he chooses his more common name, Frank, not Francis. He's not out to impress her with formality.


End file.
